The trick is to keep breathing
by lancast
Summary: Jack Spicer, the Evil Boy Genius, is not feeling what you'd call bloody good. What's more Raimundo seems to have quite similar problems. They both seek for a cure... but the illness is not so simple as one could think.[JackRaimundo, rxj, jxr, slash]


The sun was shining brightly, sending warm arrows through the leaves hunging on the branches like tears, glistening with unspoken joy. Trees were just greener than green and you felt like you could not stop starring at them with pure awe in your eyes, and love in the heart. Because it was simply not possible for a human being not to fall in love with this summer day, that seemed somehow almost holly, dressed in all the beauty, that world can present, singing quiet songs, lingering in your soul from the moment you took your very first breath. Because it was simply not possible for a human being to think of a batter place to stay than this one, full of perfectness and touch of God.

Every human being, not counting Jack Spicer, that is.

He was sitting at the desk of his pitchblack, oh-so-goth table, working on his self-made laptop and swinging lightly, biting his lips a little, while concentrating on another oh-so-evil plan, that came to his mind. Even more so goth and so eveil, if you ask.

"Is there not even one damn thing you can do just right!" Wuya screamed furiously, hoovering to the boy, trying to get his attention and failing miserably.

"Someone could think that you have at least some grounds to tell everyone you're an Evil Boy Genius!", she snorted with anger, and then stopped, waiting for reaction.

When the silence started to be a little bit too long for thinking about the reply, Wuya looked puzzled at the boy, wondering, if she hit his ambition too hard. After all, he really was a genius, maybe not in stereotypical way, but... Still, she knew that people of this type should not fell harassed. Well, not too much, of course.

With curiosity taking over, Wuya moved a little closer to check expresion on Jack's face, partly covered in shadows.

And then she spotted his lips, singing to the tune, that surely went on in his almost invisible headphones.

_Bitches love me, 'cause they know that I can rock_

"You creepy idiot!" she half screamed, half squeaked, in one not so smooth motion locating herself just in front of the boy's face. "Listen to me properly or you'll never stop being a total loser! Or it's too late! Oh, wait, it was always too late, anyway!" not caring to control her rage anymore, she grawled some of another Jack, You're Not Worthy To Worship The Ground I Would Walk On (if I had a body) series, then vanished quickly, not having the patience to stay in one room with the boy anymore.

Jack finally lifted his gaze from the computer screen, looking lazily through the room, full of technological equipement and ocassionaly CDs with demos. Who said Evil Boys are not ment to be music freaks?

_Bitches love me, 'cause they know that I can fuck_

"Like, no wonder I spend so much time with loud music on" the boy murmured, taking the gear out of his ears. He sighted, closing his eyes for a while, then finally minimalising the web's window of search engine, with big "HEART DISEASES" and various hints to the problem presented.

Right. So maybe he wasn't working on another plan to claim the Shen Gong Wu. So maybe he wasn't paying attention to what his partner in crime said. So maybe he'd forgotten for some time he's supposed to be the Evil Boy Genius.

But it's really hard to concentrate on anything, when you feel your body's cracking from the inside, heart's aching like there was an invisible needle in it. And there are these horrible moments, when you seem to be underwater, trying so desperately to catch your breath, with blood pumping furiously in your veins. And you want to scream, scream so hard, but there's never enough air.

Jack rested his head on the palm of his hand, all of a sudden feeling numb and exhausted.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with me?" he whispered to himself but there was no answer, only quiet sound of constantly working machines and words of the song fading in the headphones.

--

"Oh men, isn't that terrific, or what?" Kimiko purred lightly, rising her face to the sun.

The weather was perfect to stay outside and enjoy the world around. It was almost, like you could feel the earth smiling to you.

"I thought Japanese girls are supposed to stay pale?" little monk asked, moving closer and watching his friends attempt to gain tan.

"You're cute Omi, but so totally out of date," the girl didn't bother to open her eyes, concentrated on making the best of the little spare time they had. "We're, like, really, really free now and can look as we like. Freedoom!" she hummed lightly, obviously in a great mood.

Omi scratched his head, not geting the point completely but deciding, that asking won't explain him anything in this matter.

"Just observe Kimiko, little one," Clay touched his hat with one hand, lowering it slightly. "She's always in a move, like the wind in a corn field."

Omi nodded thoughtfully, bringing his thumb to his chin. Thank God, that world was ruled mainly by men, not women. What a crazy place it'd be!

"Step aside, Raimundo," Dojo complained in a low voice, lying next to the girl. "Your taking all the wind from me! You want me to suffocate right in front of your very eyes?"

"Yeah, whatever." Brazilian rolled his eyes, moving away from the dragon.

Dojo sighted contently and made sure, that he his whole body was coverd in the sun. After all he was a lizard and sometimes it took the better of him.

Raimundo went a few more steps, then turned back and, squinting in the sunlight, looked at his friends, carless and happy among the flowers and the tress. Birds were singing somewhere above his head, hidden in the branches, and from time to time there was a butterfly flying nearby, moving its colorful wings with grace and delicatness. Idyl.

Raimundo felt, that if another minute of this sweetness goes on, he's going to have a toothache

Normally he wouldn't even notice it, not even thinking of getting sick of it all, but... well, he wasn't felling very NORMAL today, anyway. So okay, maybe not today and a few other days, too. Alright, alright – maybe not today and not a week ago.And another week, and...

"I'm going to take a walk!" he shouted to his friends and turned away from them, not bothering to stay a bit longer and hear the answer.

Training, getting Shen Gong Wu, failing, training, getting Shen Gong Wu, failing, tra... Oh, just screw it already.

While wandering aimlessly, he wondered, why the heck was he so.. irritated for the last two... or three weeks? He lost the count somewhere along the way.

Raimundo questioned himself so many times, still he didn't have the answer. No-o. Nope. No answer at all. Hm.

"Oh, just freaking great." he murmured, as he felt sudden hotness claiming his body and fever rising to his face. Again. Fantastic.

He walked to nearest tree, leaning against it, knowing, that he'll feel totally week in juzt few seconds. Experience is a treasure, relly.

"I am so NOT going to fa..."

And then he fainted.


End file.
